


PUNK

by robotique_amour



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-14 20:16:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2201661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotique_amour/pseuds/robotique_amour





	1. LOST BOY, BLACK SHEEP

Thomas Bangalter was the most popular boy in school, he was cute and smart and every girl and boy that attended the same high school wanted him. he was the kind of boy who constantly wore varsity sweaters and khakis and t-shirts with college logos on them. he was an A student and he was a senior. Guy de-Christo was also a senior. he was a punk; a dysfunctional, emotionally challenged, punk that lived in a trashy house all alone because his parents left on a trip without him and never came back when he was ten. he was fucked up ever since, very lost, very scared to trust another. he skipped out on school a lot. actually, a lot was an understatement. they were half way through the school year and he had been there maybe two whole weeks all together and when he was there he was buying pills from the cute girl that wore colored plaid skirts; she stood beside the trash bin out behind the school and saw him nearly regularly, so she knew his name as well as she knew her own, her's was Courtney.

It was a Wednesday in March and Guy went to school for a change. he went through half of his classes, arguing with every teacher and picking fights with kids; he was quiet but he always wanted to fight, something to do with the lack of guidance. He stepped into the restroom for just a moment and saw Thomas making out with a girl. her name was Cindy something. shed fuck any boy in the school, and lucky for her, Thomas would fuck anybody too. Guy stared at them and licked his swollen lips, imagining himself in Cindy’s place, getting kissed by the most popular boy in school. he turned away and left. he walked home alone and once he made it home, he sat down on his bed. he reached into the drawer or the desk close to him and grabbed his lighter in one hand and a razor in the other. he reached over and powered on his stereo, turning the volume up completely and blaring loud music. he heated his razor with his lighter then used it to press Thomas’s name into his skin, blood bubbled to the surface of his skin and he cauterized every slice in his skin so it would scar and stay. that’s where his obsession began, with a razor and a name.

he started going to school most of the time after that, any thing to get to know Thomas. Anything to get close to him. he’d bleed just to watch him fuck one of the cheerleaders. he just wanted Thomas to touch him and he thought about that often as he watched Thomas walk down the hall. everyday he went home and sat in his garage, stretching a plastic bag around his head and sealing the bottom with silver duttape so he couldn't breath, he loved feeling the pulse in his gums and feeling the color show in his face. he'd keep the bag around his head until he was on the verge of passing out, nearly unable to breathe for a while after. he did this everyday for half a month or so. until he found out where Thomas lived.


	2. THOMAS'S HOUSE

he broke into Thomas’s house in the middle of the day when no one was at home. he smashed the lock on the window on the bottom floor. he opened it and climbed in through that way, welcoming himself. he walked around and found a picture of Thomas, it was sitting on the table unframed and stuck it in his pocket. it was from this years school pictures. he walked around to the stars and walked up and after a while he found himself standing in Thomas’s room. he was sniffing his dirty clothes and his pillow, he even laid in Thomas’s bed and pretended Thomas was there with him for a while, wrapping his arms around himself, pretending Thomas was holding him. after a minute he got up and continued to look around. he ran his finger tips over things on his dresser and looked for specific things, he just wanted something in common with Thomas, something to bring them together. he touched everything in his room an he would be surprised if no one noticed. he looked through his top drawer and found a bottle of cologne. he grabbed it and sprayed some in his mouth, hoping he would taste Thomas’s scent on his tongue forever. it stung his throat and he instantly regretted his decision. he soon left before Thomas came home. until later that night, that is. he came back with the pictures he'd stolen of Thomas and set them a flame, leaving them on the doorstep and ringing the door bell. the family was eating dinner and guy watched from behind a tree as they frantically stomped out the flames and yelled for Thomas. he was just as scared as they were and guy had taken off sprinting back towards his house by then. they didn't call the police for the breaking and entering since nothing was stolen but a few pictures, but they called after this, considering it a hate crime, but it was the opposite. guy just didn't know how to show his affection. he did things like this for a month before he could even gather the courage to speak to Thomas and the first words that ever came from his lips to Thomas were “it was me,” and Thomas didn't understand it but he started talking to guy anyways. he knew his name, he was sort of infamous around here, but damn did Thomas think he was hot.


	3. "it was me,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao im continuing this because you guys seemed to like it a lot and im sorry that this chapter is so slow,, oh g osh
> 
> (if u wanna say somethin about it or u have like a suggestion of sorts message me @ robotique-amour.tumblr.com)

Thomas didn't have knowledge of Guy's fascination with him, and he did have quite a strong fascination, honestly. Thomas didn't feel threatened, nor did he feel scared, he was into Guy and he didn't mind how weird he seemed, he rather enjoyed it in fact.

They began talking and soon there after, seeing each other after school, often. every one told Thomas to stay far away from the company of Guy-Man, but he didn't listen, he never did. people should know that. His acceptance to Guy had caused a bad reputation for him, but he didn't care about that either. Guy was something new and exciting and he needed him.

That spring was the first time that Guy had consensually been welcomed into the Bangalter house; Thomas invited him after their walk from school and Guilliaume was nearly hesitant to accept due to the fact that he'd have to pretend he'd not seen the inside of Thomas's little, white, road side home a thousand times before. he'd have to pretend that he'd never broke his window and that he'd never laid in Thomas's bed with out his knowing and he'd have to pretend as though he'd never seen Thomas's dirty clothes hamper. He'd have to pretend a lot. and he did. He followed Thomas inside and pretended as though he didn't know every corner, every step, every turn of that whole house like the back of his hand. and he knew the back of his hand very well. He wouldn't say he was stalking Thomas per say, but he definitely had every bit of information about Thomas burnt into his mind and his name burnt into his skin, and the details of his face burnt into his eyelids. he loved him.

"You're house is nice," Guy let the words slip from his mouth which curled into a grin as soon as the words disappeared into air. He thought himself very clever. "Thanks!" Thomas sounded happy. He hadn't the slightest clue that Guy were being sarcastic, testing his boundaries. He was a chronic liar, practically a professional at the subject. He was charming and he could lie his way out of nearly anything. "So, Guy," Thomas cleared his throat, "What do you do for fun?" Guy flicked his tongue over his lips, wetting them. all of his thoughts of the disgusting things he did when he were all alone created a 14 ft deep pool in his brain and flowed to the tip of his tongue. He was careful not to let the thoughts spill from his mouth. All he let slip were the simple words, "Nothing special," Thomas swallowed down his anxious feelings which dropped like a lead ball into his stomach. Why it seemed so hard for Thomas to talk to Guy was far beyond him, maybe because he wasn't actually trying to get in his pants. "Well, what do you want to do, then?" Guy could think of a few things, not things that he'd actually speak of openly, but he still had a few thoughts in mind. "Whatever," Guy said. Thomas thought he were being awfully difficult, like a child who replies to the question "what do you want to eat?" with the answer "food". They were both just as difficult as the other, though. "Ok," Thomas shoved his hands in his pockets, "do you want to just watch TV?" Guy stared to the floor, he shrugged at Thomas.

They sat a distance away from each other on Thomas's bed. Guy knew this room better than he knew himself; it felt like he was doing something wrong just by being there. He sat, legs crossed and elbows resting on his knees. "I can feel your eyes burning holes in my skin, Thomas." Guy said, and Thomas jerked his head astray, ripping his eyes away from the sight of the boy on his bed. Thomas was blushing; he was, in fact, staring at Guy, practically admiring him like a museum exhibit. Thomas opened his mouth; but no words came out, just further adding to his embarrassment. "What is it?" Guy spoke through a smile. "Oh god, sorry," Guy let out a short lived chuckle and reached up to tuck his hair behind his ear. The sleeve of his plaid shirt fell just under the last three letters of Thomas's name which was engraved in him and just long enough for Thomas to catch a glimpse of it. He didn't dare bring it up.

They mindlessly stared at the TV, not saying a word for a long while before Thomas asked Guy if he had to be home that night, to which Guy replied with "no." He didn't go into detail about the fact that he lived completely alone and went home when he pleased. Time seemed to pass by so slow. "How about you stay tonight?" Guy wasn't sure that it was a very good idea, but he said yes anyways out of fear of offending Thomas. Thomas smiled brightly, he seemed giddy like a fucking cheerleader and Guy found it rather endearing. Guy sat there and thought back to their first conversations, running over all of the words in his head, thinking of things he could have and should have done differently. He should talk more, he thought, but every time he tried to speak he blurted out secrets and his words came out in clusters and he confused himself sometimes.

"It was me, you know." Guy said. Thomas turned to him and furrowed his brow. "What?" "i burnt those pictures, i didn't mean to." Thomas thought it odd that he'd mention that now, he also thought it strange that he'd say "i didn't mean to". "so? i don't care," he did care, "it doesn't matter." it did matter. Thomas was as good of a liar as Guy, his calm words hiding that he was terrified. He thought bad things about Guy and scolded himself for thinking them; wishing Guy never told him what he'd done. Guy wished he'd never told him as well. Thomas pretended it was all ok and Guy pretended that he wasn't as troubled as he truly were. "I really didn't mean too," Guy felt like he was drowning, he never said the right things. 

Thomas handled the situation the only way he knew how and gripped Guy by his shirt, closing the gap between the both of them and pressed a kiss to his lips. Guy willingly kissed back, grabbing onto the sleeves of Thomas's sweater as they shared the interaction. Despite their current fears, they were ok. Everything was ok.


	4. JUST A KISS

Thomas kissed his neck just slightly. Guy bore the scent of cigarettes and alcohol, just like he’d expected him to smell. Thomas felt safe with Guy, despite the fact that he knew otherwise. Thomas felt like home to Guy. Thomas pressed another kiss to Guy's jaw line, reaching out and raking his fingers through Guy’s hair, his fingers tangling in the wispy dark locks that fell past his shoulders. Thomas flicked his tongue against Guy's lips then pressed another sweet kiss to them. Guy felt like he could just scream, his thoughts and emotions all welling up in him. He would rather die than fall in love and give someone else control, but he gave Thomas his heart anyways and Thomas chewed it up and swallowed. Thomas had the power to destroy Guy if he did so please and that all came from the touch of their lips. Guy wanted to set Thomas's house on fire with him in it, or maybe he wanted to drink up a few and run away with him. He wasn't sure yet. Guy slowly let his tongue brush Thomas's lips and Thomas gently pushed Guy down against the mattress, kissing him and kissing him until they were both something short of a disgusting slobbery mess. Guy was in love. 

Thomas's parents pulled in the driveway, by instinct Guy jumped. He felt like he needed to run and hide until he could sneak out, but then he remembered he was here with Thomas. "Are you okay?" Thomas asked. "no, i'm dying." Thomas didn't appreciate Guy's sarcasm. Guy wanted to stay with Thomas forever and ever, he wanted to hold his big hands and kiss his stupid face. He wanted to just get fucking lost in him. He was obsessed and he was killing himself slowly because he had to keep reminding himself that it was only a kiss. Thomas felt self-loathing settle in him and there was an anchor of thoughts and actions weighing him down. He knew he could take advantage of Guy, and honestly he wanted to. He scolded himself in his mind for even thinking of doing such a thing. Guy watched Thomas's parents exit their vehicle and walk towards the home, he was clearly nervous. He didn't want to look at his parents knowing that he was the reason they locked the windows at night. Thomas reached over and touched Guy's hand, causing Guy to jump out of shock. "It's just my parents," Guy swallowed down that feeling of guilt and said, "Yeah, i know," he smiled a crooked dopey grin, the cuts on his lips more obvious now, "I'm not good with parents." he chuckled quietly at the irony of the fact that his words proved true early in his childhood. "Why? Don't get along with yours?" Thomas had no knowledge of Guy's life, but right when he asked he got a laugh from him. "Yeah, i guess. i wouldn't know," He sighed and brushed his hair back with his fingers which fell right back to place, "I don't have parents." Thomas was taken aback by the statement. "Like, for real?" "No, I'm totally kidding." Guy said rolling his eyes as he said it. Thomas realized he sounded like a grade A fuckhead. "My parents are probably dead," Guy spoke so nonchalantly, he just shrugged it off, "But i wouldn't know, i haven't seen them since i was ten." Guy fidgeted with his fingers and chewed on his lip. He acted all cool but inside there was just a terrible fit of rage building inside him, he wanted to suffocate and just fucking fade away. Guy wet his lips and laughed a bit. "But I'm all good," Guy said softly. It wasn't "all good". Thomas reached out and put his arms around Guy, holding him gently. Guy appreciated Thomas's gesture, it was sweet and caring and he did it out of his own heart. Guy nuzzled at him until Thomas gave him a kiss and Guy very much wished that Thomas's parents weren't home. "I've...I've got you though, right?" Guy spoke quietly, almost like he didn't want an answer. "Yeah, you've got me," Thomas said, looking Guy in the eye's. Only then did Thomas realize the severity of Guy's situation and he understood everything. He understood why Guy was who he was. Only then did Thomas realize the importance of the building relationship they shared and the impact that it had on Guy. Something about Thomas's smooth voice and dark eyes calmed that rage inside Guy. Tears dripped from Guy's eyes, he smiled at Thomas but he wanted to scream. He felt like he were drowning in self-pity and loathing, but it was no big deal. Nothing happened between them, Guy slept on a pull out bed on Thomas's floor and he just enjoyed not having to be alone in his creaky old house.


	5. DEXTROMETHOROPHAN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw : drug abuse,

Thomas walked with Guy after school. They walked to school together in the mornings and they walked after school together everyday. "When can i see your place," Thomas said, smiling to Guy. He held onto the strap of his backpack with his right hand, ruffling his red varsity sweater, this particular one was his favorite. When Thomas took a step his blondish-brown curls bounced and fell with him, Guy thought it was cute. "I'd prefer never," Guy said, he wasn't exactly proud of the house he lived in, he was from the bad part of town which was uncomfortably close to the school. Thomas reached out to the right if him and grabbed onto Guy's plaid over shirt, pulling him closer. Thomas took Guy under his arm and kept walking, "Why?" Thomas asked. "You won't be impressed," Guy said. "So?" Thomas shrugged. "Let me walk you home today," Guy shook his head. He didn't like saying no to Thomas but he'd rather spare the embarrassment and just not have Thomas ever lay eyes on his house. "no, sorry," Guy said quietly. Thomas looked to Guy, begging him with puppy eyes and his fingers twirling in Guy's long hair. "Please?" Guy sighed, "fine, okay, but don't you fucking dare say some shit about how it's unlivable or talk shit about its appearance because I've been living here since i was a kid," "Thank you," Thomas smiled, drawing out the last of "you". "Whatever," Guy chuckled and threw his left arm around Thomas and stuffed the other hand in his pocket. Guy walked this way alone everyday still after he walked Thomas home, it was nice to have someone with him. They took a turn onto the road right before Thomas's and kept going down until they hit Emery street, which was Guy's street. It wasn't a long walk. Guy stopped in front of a small house, the windows were broken, the door was splintered, the shutters were busted and the house looked like it was falling apart; but it worked. Thomas's dorky smile disappeared slowly, leaving no trace of its existence, he looked to Guy who was digging keys out of his pocket. "A man's home is his castle, right?" Guy laughed. 

Guy fumbled with the keys then unlocked his door, revealing the inside. It wasn't much better than the outside, there was a TV that got eighteen channels on a clear day, a couch with no legs on only one side, a lamp with a green bulb from halloween two years ago, a silver colored CD player covered in scratches, and more furniture that he'd either had since forever or that he'd taken from the dump. There were clothes scattered about and a few bags of imperishable foods beside the couch and he had milk and sandwich meat in the broken, full freezer mini-fridge he had in the place where the kitchen should be along with a microwave. It was a one room, one bathroom, paid off shit hole. This was home sweet home to Guy. This was where he'd lived for as long as he could remember. "You live here?" Thomas asked, he was shocked at the conditions honestly. "I have the keys don't I?" Guy replied as he took off his backpack and tossed it to the floor, then took off his plaid over-shirt and tossed it to the floor as well. "I don't have air, just take your sweater off if you get hot." Thomas tried his hardest not to speak out about Guy's home, he tried to follow "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all" but he couldn't. "Do you need groceries or, like, furniture or anything?" Thomas spoke out. Guy's expression changed dramatically. "Fucking bull shit, every fucking time," Guy shook his head, "I don't need shit from you, don't you think i have myself handled by now?" Thomas looked to the floor. "I'm sorry, I'm just..." "Concerned? Don't be. I'm perfectly fine." "I'm sure you are, I'm sorry." Thomas replied, but he wasn't sure that he was fine at all, not in a place like this. Guy smiled to Thomas, "My home is just as good as yours, I just have a lot less," Thomas nodded back. 

It didn't take Thomas long to realize how different from Guy he really was. Guy stirred about his house, leaving Thomas where he sat on the broken couch, then made his way to the bathroom. he splashed water on his face and smoothed his hair then opened the medicine cabinet. He grabbed his bottle of cough syrup and held it close by his side as he walked out back to Thomas. "Hey, wanna try something?" Thomas was very different from Guy. "Sure," Thomas said, He wish he'd knew what he was agreeing to then. Guy smiled and walked to Thomas, standing in front of him, opening the bottle of cough syrup. Guy held the bottle out to him and Thomas took his offer, taking the bottle and drinking straight from it. He swallowed a mouthful or two of the syrup and it tasted terrible, after a moment the insides of his lips felt stingingly numb and his throat burnt like germ-ex in an open wound. It was terrible. Guy smiled and chugged down a few mouthfuls of the syrup himself and set himself next to Thomas. He lightly placed his hand on Thomas's thigh and kept his grin as he watched Thomas's expression change. Over the course of a few minutes, Thomas felt sick and hot, he started sweating a lot, to the point that he had to remove his sweater. Guy's head felt heavy and he was very dizzy, but he was used to this. Guy said something but Thomas didn't listen. Guy couldn't feel his body moving but he knew he had made it move, he grabbed onto Thomas's arm and planted a kiss on his lips. Thomas had never been this high before and Guy had been high like this much too often. Thomas kissed back, he couldn't feel his hands and he produced a chuckle as he grabbed Guy and pulled him onto him. They kissed on that broken couch, high on fucking cough syrup and that was the first time Thomas saw the tattoo on Guy's right side rib cage that read "Je suis mort" in small black lettering, and that was the first time Guy ever got anywhere close to seeing another person naked in the flesh. Thomas hallucinated the entire rest of the six hours he was out of it, stumbling over his feet when he tried to walk.


	6. LOVE IS A MUTT FROM HELL

Thomas didn't go home that night, he was having too much fun to leave, and he was too high to let his parents see him. Guy felt bad, being responsible for the worry that was placed on Thomas’s parents. He woke up, head throbbing, laying on the broken couch next to the beautiful damaged soul he'd spent the night with. He pecked Guy's cheek, knowing he was still asleep and not wanting to wake him. he gathered his things and decided to start heading home. He would be able to see him again soon, it was only Saturday morning after all. His parents were nearing the point of calling the police just before he walked through the door, they always took things way too dramatically. “Where were you? You had us worried sick, Thomas!” His mothered had said to him. “I’m sorry mom, I was just…” “Just what?” Thomas swallowed hard, his heart started racing, how would he lie his way out of this?He realized as soon as his mother did that there were hickies on his skin and he made a lie out of it. “I was with Cindy!” Thomas exclaimed, he was pretty proud of his lie. As far as his parents knew, he was dating head cheerleader and that’s what he stuck with. “Thomas, you should have called,” she had probably the calmest reaction anyone could have ever had. “Please don’t get a girl pregnant,” She said and Thomas blushed, “You don’t have to worry, mom, trust me.” Thomas rushed off to his room before she could put anymore word in, The last thing he wanted was a lecture considering how bad his head hurt. He made his way to his room and started removing clothes. he reeked of cough syrup and cigarette smoke, he couldn't believe the fact that his mother looked over his smell. He grabbed a change of clothes and rushed to the shower. 

His fingers raked through his wet locks of hair, water from the shower head dripping from his eyelashes and nose. The thought of Guy being his "boyfriend" really scared him and made him sad. It made him feel like he was doing something wrong, probably something to do with the way he was raised, but he couldn't stop thinking about him. He thought about the taste of Guy's mouth and how it felt to touch his soft skin. He thought about how happy and free Guy made him feel. Guy was his escape and he loved that, maybe he even loved him. Thomas had been so waist deep in thought that he hadn't realized that the water had run cold, he only realized when he started to shiver. He thought it was time to get out of the shower, then out of the house. 

He dried his light hair with his towel and it seemed to gain its curl nearly instantly. He slipped on a pair of khaki pants and his white sweater, and grabbed his wallet from his dresser. He tied up his shoes with the worn out soles and strapped them on his feet. He loved these shoes, but he hadn't worn them much since his sophomore year, they'd become tighter on his feet since then, though. He told his mom he was going to the library, which was a lie, and he walked out the door. He wanted to leave this town, maybe even this country, he wanted to leave his emotions and forget. so he was going to the residence of the king of forget, back to Guy's house. He felt the soles of his shoes wearing down more and more as he walked. He thought about the things that Guy did, the way he grinned, the way he chuckled, the way his scars on his left cheek look sort of like a heart if you look at it the right way. Oh god. This was love taking him over, invading his life like some kind of disease. It was destroying him from the inside out, eating him alive, so he was going to the source. He craved Guy like a drug.


	7. IF THAT'S (NOT) LOVE, THEN I DON'T KNOW WHAT LOVE IS.

Thomas knocked at the door with no reply, then he realized the door was left unlocked. He twisted the old knob and walked in as quiet as he could. Guy lay still sleeping on the couch where Thomas had left him. Thomas chuckled a little under his breath. Thomas thought that Guy looked rather cute the way he lay, mouth hung open, face squished to the arm of the couch. He liked the way Guy's chest rose and fell, the way his body shaped when he moved. Thomas wouldn't be opposed in the slightest if Guy wanted to spend the day with him. Thomas stepped over to guy's side lightly and quietly lay by him on that broken couch like he never even left. He threw his arm around Guy and closed his eyes.

Guy opened his eyes and was assaulted with sunlight burning his corneas, realizing his blinds were open. He sat up and blinked for a long minute and realized Thomas was there. It came as a shock to Guy that he hadn't left by now. He climbed over Thomas and scratched his chest as he yawned with one arm out stretched. He wobbled around the room until finding his red plaid shirt and slipping it on. He raked his fingers through his tangled hair, his fingers getting caught in the mess. He aimlessly stumbled about for a few moments before realizing that it was nearly noon. he was about to wake Thomas, but he realized that Thomas had probably already been home because his clothes were different. He overlooked it. Guy made his way to the bathroom and grabbed his tooth brush with one hand and turned the water in with his other. he ran water over his toothbrush and squeezed tooth paste on it then proceeded to brush his teeth. He splashed some of the running water on his face, toothbrush hanging from his mouth. He spit in the sink then swished a handful of water around in his mouth. He opened his mouth with his tongue hanging out and looked at himself in the mirror. He chuckled quietly, then went on some what of a soulful journey, or a search rather, for a pair of clean pants. He wandered around digging for pants in small clothing piles that littered the home. He found a light-blue jean colored pair and slipped into them then searched his person for cigarettes, which he found in his shirt pocket, but it was just an empty box. He began to leave, but then realized he didn't want to leave Thomas there alone.

It felt like, as if in some sort of morning haze, he'd forgotten who Thomas was and then it hit him as he looked at that long, lanky figure that lay sleeping on his couch. Only then did he remember why he was being so quiet, he didn't want to wake him, and then he remembered that Thomas stayed with him all night. He felt his chest cave into itself as he remembered just who Thomas was, he felt his love for Thomas just flowing back into him, he felt his heart beat faster as he thought of the fact that he stayed. Then he became scared, terrified even. Thomas had stayed in Guy's home, what did that mean to Thomas? Guy knew what it meant to him, considering he doesn't even allow his friends he's known since grade school to see it, but what if Thomas thought it was some middle-school level, sleep over joke. He felt anxious like there was a storm of heat lightning raging inside him so he tried hard to forget. Guy didn't know about how Thomas consciously put his arm around him, or how he kissed Guy's cheek before leaving. Guy didn't know much about the things Thomas thought about him, or the things he said and did and like wise for Thomas. It was like there was some sort of wall between them and they were literally just one brick away from breaking through it, but they only had a spoon to break it with. These kind of thoughts ate at Guy, these kind of thoughts were why Guy smoked in the first place. Then he remembered he needed cigarettes. He looked back to Thomas then to the door. He settled his dispute inside of him and threw the empty box to the carpeted floor and walked back to the couch and lay back beside the other. He brushed Thomas's curly locks back and kissed his forehead. He hadn't a clue about Thomas's same decision to come back to him as well in the early morning.


	8. "CIGARETTES CAN KILL YOU, YOU KNOW?" "YES, I KNOW THAT."

Thomas woke up. Guy lay facing him, dressed and sleeping. He looked at him, studying his features, he felt the butterflies in his stomach flapping violently like they were trying to escape as he reached and tucked a long strand of hair behind Guy's ear. He couldn't count all of the ways he loved him, all he knew was he loved him more than anything else in his life. They weren't even official, just two people together. They weren't anything yet and that was Guy's greatest fear. Thomas could leave anytime with no warning and leave nothing but hurt behind. Guy hoped it would just stay a fear and never a reality. And Thomas's greatest fear was that he would do anything to worry Guy or hurt him. He'd never try to hurt him. Guy blinked his eyes open and struggled to keep his heavy eyelids from closing again. Thomas, with his hand still where he'd tucked Guy's hair, smiled at his sleepy friend and pressed his soft lips to the other's mouth. Guy kissed back without even a second of hesitation and smiled back to Thomas. There was a tiny voice echoing in him, whispering "It's you, It's you! You are the one for me!" but Guy forced the voice quiet. "Good morning," Thomas said, to which Guy replied with, "Yes, morning good, yes." His words stumbled across his tongue, coming out almost as graceful as a broken vase. He shook his head and apologized, but Thomas only chuckled. "You want to hang out again today?" Guy didn't speak for fear of another fuck up and just nodded. Thomas sat up and stepped over Guy, reaching for Guy's hand to support him as he stepped over. Guy climbed out of the blanket he was wrapped in after Thomas's feet were flat on the floor and his hand had lost its grasp on his. 

Guy stared at Thomas intently, as if waiting for a moment to moment schedule for his exact plans, chewing the inside of his lip. Thomas looked back at him and opened his mouth and spoke excitedly. "Do you want to go out? Or do you want to stay here? I'm okay with whatever, as long as we can still hang out." Guy quickly responded with a "What ever you want to do." Almost too quickly. "well, I don't mind, honestly." Thomas said and to break the what could be endless cycle of "Whatever you want to do," Guy stated that he needed to get cigarettes anyway, so they could figure out what they wanted from there. Thomas agreed and soon after they searched about for their belongings fallen into the floor from the pockets of the heavy eyed. Guy found it funny that through the course of the morning him and Thomas had switched spots on the couch about three times, and Thomas thought it was cute that Guy smiled to himself when he thought about it. Thomas grabbed up his extra jacket from the foot of the couch and tied it around his waist as Guy checked his person for money and keys and other such important items, then they left, stepping foot out into the chilly fall day. What the day would hold was still something unknown, but it was something also not too important to them. Thomas linked his arm with Guy's and continued to walk, pretending to ignore the blood that was rushing to Guy's face. 

They walked off not too far down the street to a little red-roofed marathon gas station where Guy always got his cigarettes and where Thomas always got his big red soda. They walked in through the propped open glass double doors together and left through them together after Guy bought himself cigarettes and bought Thomas a drink. Guy broke the link between their arms to place a cigarette between his lips and pat his person down for a lighter. He watched as the lighter sparked and flickered once before flaming. He pressed the flame to the end of the cigarette that dangled from his lips and lit it, taking a long drag then blowing the smoke into the air. He put his lighter, cigarettes, etc. away into his pocket then reached out and grabbed Thomas's hand. His fingers traced along the shape of his hand which seemed to be a perfect fit for Guy's as his hand slid down until their fingers met and locked. Thomas adjusted his hand, clasping Guy's hand tightly like it was the most treasured thing he had. Guy took another drag then offered his cigarette to Thomas, who didn't often smoke, but accepted and took a puff from it anyway, holding back his coughs and watery eyes as he blew smoke into the air. He passed the cig back to Guy who then took a smoke and passed it back. He wasn't sure why he was smoking, really. His mother would smell it on him, as if she weren't suspicious enough already, she'd certainly question why he smelt of smoke and tar. He didn't seem to care though, and he wasn't sure why. "cigarettes can kill you, you know?" Thomas spoke up. "Yes, I know that." Guy replied to him. After all, that was the intended point for smoking, wasn't it? Guy questioned why Thomas was smoking if he were so worried with the death toll it brought along with it. Thomas shrugged. They walked back down the street, their locked hands swinging with their step as they passed the cigarette between each other until it burnt out into crumbled ash and a filter.


	9. SOMETIMES POISON COMES IN THE FORM OF LOVE

Guy hadn't said much to Thomas as they walked, but Thomas couldn't seem to shut up. He talked about anything he could just to avoid the awkwardness that would come along with silence. Every time that Guy would reply to him, which wasn't often anyway, it put a bounce in Thomas's step. He was happy just to get a grumble in reply. 

Thomas's words started to make Guy cringe because he would talk so fast that he'd stutter and his words didn't even sound like words anymore, just breathy, unconnected, soberly slurred words, he was just too excited. He would loose his breath mid-sentence and then it hit him that he was probably really annoying and he felt his anxiety settle inside him. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I'm doing it again. I'm so sorry." even when apologizing, he spoke to much. Thomas chewed the inside of his lip, mentally cursing himself for talking so much. He felt a hand grab his- which he had pulled from Guy's grasp to talk with hand motions- and squeeze his fingers tightly around it. "You're fine," Guy said. With his other hand he pushed his hair back from his face with his pinkie finger even though every time he did, the wind pushed his hair right back into his face. Thomas felt his shoulders relax and he felt himself calm. "You're not bothering me any, I like to hear you talk," Guy said to Thomas without looking from his feet. Thomas smiled to himself, then looked to Guy to see if he was looking, but he wasn't. 

It was getting late, about five-ish. It was getting dark earlier and earlier now that it was fall and they decided to go to the park where it was cold and desolate and lacking of noise. They had been everywhere and back in this town today and sitting on the swing set sounded like a great break. Thomas took the swing that hung higher above the ground and still his knees still came up towards his chest. Guy took the swing next to him and laughed as he called Thomas his friendly giant. Thomas smiled back with his dorky, all-teeth smile that made Guy melt inside like a popsicle in the heat of summer. Guy's feet nearly couldn't reach the ground and he kicked his legs to try to get his swing moving. Thomas chuckled and Guy reached out for his hand and Thomas accepted it. 

They held hands as they slowly rocked their swings in the cold night air of December and Guy leaned over and kissed him and that was when he said it for the first time. "I love you, Thomas." Guy spilled the poisonous words and the words hung a smile on his lips like a crooked painting on a mantle piece. Thomas felt his hand slip on the creaky swing chain and he felt his hand slipping from the grasp of Guy-man; his hands were clammy and his brain gathered the words slowly. Only then did he realize how nervous it made him to hear those words he wanted to hear for so long. Then Thomas saw it for the first time, the anticipation written on Guy's face in permanent ink, the anxiety that burdened him was out in the open; Guy swallowed hard, sucking down his emotional damage and hiding it. Guy had been a ghost to Thomas, like a locked box that he couldn't open and then, all of sudden, the lock had fallen off and he was free. He felt Guy squeeze his hand and remembered he was actually there and not dreaming. Thomas pried his hand from Guy's and wiped in off on his pants and that's when Guy thought that Thomas would tell him he didn't like him anymore. Guy felt his heart sink to his stomach and he felt like and electrical fire on the inside. He was terrified. 

Thomas stood from his swing, then, out of some godly miracle, he stopped Guy's swing and gave him the biggest, warmest, sweetest kiss he'd ever planted on the lips of another. Guy felt lucky, he was grateful just to be in Thomas's presence and Thomas felt like his time was more than well spent with Guy. He didn't wish to spend it with anyone else. Guy stood from his swing, slowly, careful not to brake the kiss they were sharing and felt Thomas's hands in his hair, his fingers tangled like vines growing around a pole, lost in it. He felt Thomas slip up and smile and then he did too. "Lets go back," Guy said and Thomas agreed and they left. They left the park and the whole day far behind them as the closed the emotional distance between each other and the came so much closer to realizing that they weren't really all that different and that the feelings each felt of the other wasn't unrequited. Thomas still sweat at the thought of calling Guy his "boyfriend" but the feelings Guy felt for him were definitely mutual and evident. It was clear that love surrounded the two boys where ever the days take them and it was clear that they weren't simply friends anymore. That line was crossed long ago and it was obvious, too.


	10. LITTLE CHANGES

They were a short distance away from Guy's house, only like a block away; the grassy lawns all along the way were covered in dead patches and littered with dead leafs. There was an occasional bonfire or a person but mostly there was just silence, and it was slightly bothersome. These neighbor hoods were dirty, these places were far from what Thomas was used to and he clung to Guy's arm like his life depended on it. Guy thought it was funny and only a little offensive. Guy let Thomas hold onto him, then he let his arm slip down to fall around Thomas's hip. Thomas didn't pay it any mind, assuming only that his arms may have gotten tired, but Guy meant it as something at least. He nervously fumbled and let his shy fingers grab hold of a belt loop on Thomas's pants, trying hard not to look terrified. He was anxious like a stormy ocean tide, he was just a sail short of a shipwreck and it was hid well. Guy swallowed hard, gulping down the stone in his windpipe and cleared his throat, successfully getting the attention of the other. He looked to Thomas briefly, but only so he knew he was looking. He ran his thumb along the waist of Thomas's pants, slipping his fingers into the small space between his skin and his pants waist, then half his hand. The air had gotten thicker, it seemed, or maybe Guy was just as terrified as he tried to convince himself he wasn't. The few inches of skin that Guy dared to make contact with was soft and warm, but he was too scared to go any further. Guy tried to make his intentions clear, and Thomas picked up on his hints quickly, but Guy was too scared and shied away. Thomas chuckled and threw his arm around Guy, he pulled him close and let himself lean against him, resting his head against Guy's. Guy reached up and held onto the hand that was left dangling over his shoulder; it made him smile.

Guy fumbled for his house keys in his pocket and unlocked the door quickly. Thomas notice little things, like that Guy was locking the door now, He made the first move tonight, he didn't have fresh cuts exposed, his socks matched. These were only small changes, but they were changes all the same. 

Guy pressed a kiss to Thomas's soft lips and let his over shirt slip off of his shoulders, trying to look at least attractive to Thomas, slightly biting his lip and trying to act out a scene in his head, but all he could think was how many ways he could fuck this up. Thomas smiled to Guy, he thought it was cute. Thomas slid out of his sweater and pulled the over shirt off of Guy completely. Thomas grabbed onto Guy's arms and pulled him forward. He bumped his mouth against Guy's jaw, kissing him slightly, then pulling the shirt he was wearing over his head. Thomas ran his hand over his chest and torso, admiring every inch of it, running his fingers over the tattoo on his ribs. His hands ran down the outline of his figure and ended at the button of his jeans. He undone those and began slipping him out of them, nervously blushing. He nervously worked at the button on Thomas's khakis as they bumped mouths and kissed heavily. Guy's stomach felt like he was going on a roller coaster ride going 200 miles per hour on some sort of infinite loop. His hands were shaking and his body aching to be in contact with something else other than a blade or his own hands. Thomas pulled Guy's body to his, Guy sitting on his lap and wrapping his arms around Thomas, his arms on his shoulders, where he thought to himself that his legs should be, instead. his voice wavered and he sounded more nervous than he really was. The small match flame burning in him had become a house fire and he was burning alive in it. Thomas gripped onto Guy's hips and pushed himself against him, roughly dry-rolling his hips into him. Guy produced a moan as his fingers became rugged claws for him to scrape down Thomas's skin. Their mouths locked and produced a slobbery act of affection and they had honestly almost forgotten to breathe. Thomas loved the taste of Guy's mouth and he kept coming back for more and more, he was feeling the obsessiveness settling in him and he knew then that they would never be without each other. Thomas pressed his lips to Guy's skin, sloppily leaving hickies when and where he wanted.


End file.
